I Wish Virtual Pet Sitting Was a Thing
Unfortunately, dogs haven’t quite mastered Zoom yet.
There are so many jobs you can do virtually these days.
Virtual assistant? Absolutely.
Virtual secretary? Of course.
Remote meetings, online consultations, working from your laptop while sitting comfortably at home? All perfectly normal.
But pet sitting?
Unfortunately, there is one small problem.
The pet is actually there.
And apparently, dogs haven’t yet learned how to open Zoom.
So, unlike someone who can work from their sofa with a laptop, I have to get into my car and physically drive to my appointments.
And normally, I don’t mind at all.
Give me a quiet road, a little sunshine, barely any traffic and a destination that isn’t too far away, and I’m perfectly happy.
But then there are days like today.
When the Journey Becomes Half the Job
I left home at around 12.50pm for a 1.15pm appointment.
The appointment itself was absolutely fine.
The journey, however was another story.
By the time I was heading towards the supermarket afterwards, it was around 2.05pm, and I was still dealing with the traffic.
I had been on the motorway, navigating residential roads and generally trying to make my way through what seemed to be half the population of the city.
And I thought:
This is the part of pet sitting people don’t necessarily see.
Because the appointment might only be a short visit.
But the working day doesn’t begin when I walk through the client’s front door.
There’s getting ready.
There’s driving there.
There’s navigating traffic.
There’s finding somewhere to park.
There’s doing the visit.
And then there’s getting back on the road again.
And when traffic is heavy, you become very aware of just how much of your working day happens outside of the client’s home.
September Traffic Is Something Else
There is definitely something about this time of the year.
People are returning from their holidays.
Children are getting ready to go back to school.
Parents are shopping for school supplies.
Everyone seems to have suddenly returned to the roads.
And apparently, everyone has somewhere very important to be.
You can actually feel the traffic building.
First, there are a few extra cars.
Then a few more.
Then suddenly you’re approaching a roundabout and wondering how a road that was perfectly normal half an hour ago has transformed into a sea of cars.
And that’s when my driving personality really comes out.
I am a polite driver.
I indicate.
I communicate.
I let people go when they need to go.
I say thank you when someone lets me out.
I don’t race.
I don’t weave through traffic.
I don’t drive like I’m being chased.
In fact, when the traffic gets particularly busy, I slow down even more.
Meanwhile, some people around me appear to believe they have been personally selected to compete in the next Fast & Furious movie.
And I’m sitting there thinking:
I’m just trying to get to a dog.
I Don’t Actually Mind Driving
This is the funny thing.
I don’t dislike driving.
When the roads are quiet, I actually enjoy it.
A nice drive between appointments can be quite pleasant.
You have your music on, you know where you’re going, there’s no pressure, and you just get on with your day.
It’s the traffic that changes everything.
Give me an empty road and I’m happy.
Give me a huge roundabout, multiple lanes of cars, people changing lanes at the last second and someone driving approximately three centimetres behind my bumper…
Well.
Let’s just say I’m suddenly very interested in breathing exercises.
Unfortunately, when pet sitting is your job, you don’t always get to choose the road conditions.
The dog isn’t going to understand that traffic was bad.
The cat isn’t going to think:
‘No worries, she couldn’t make it today. There was congestion on the motorway.’
They are expecting you.
And if I don’t drive to the appointment, I’m not getting to the appointment.
There isn’t a virtual alternative.
If Only Pet Sitting Came With a Teleport Button
Now, I know what you’re thinking.
But surely there are automatic feeders and water fountains?
Yes.
There absolutely are.
Technology has done a pretty good job of helping pet owners with some of the basics.
There are automatic feeders.
There are water fountains.
There are pet cameras that let you check what your pet is doing while you’re away.
Some of these gadgets are genuinely brilliant.
But here’s the problem.
They don’t replace the pet sitter.
Because unfortunately, I can’t sit at home in front of my computer and say:
‘Right, let’s refresh the water bowl.’
Click.
Done.
‘And now I’ll serve dinner.’
Click.
Done.
‘And Bruno, would you mind taking yourself outside for a quick toilet break?’
…
No response.
Because Bruno is a dog.
And Bruno would very much like me to open the door.
Then there is the small matter of poo.
And wee.
Technology has not yet solved that either.
As far as I know, there isn’t an app where I can press ‘Toilet Break’ and the dog simply disappears outside, does what needs to be done, and comes back in.
The Things You Can’t Do Through a Screen
This is where the reality of pet sitting becomes obvious.
I can message a client.
I can send them photos and updates.
I can check in with them.
I can look at their pet through a camera if they have one.
But I can’t:
physically refill an empty bowl of water
prepare and serve their meal
open the door so they can go outside
take a dog for a walk
make sure they have actually done their business
clean up unexpected mess
give them medication when needed
check that they are physically okay
sit beside a nervous pet who needs company
give them an actual cuddle
And, perhaps more importantly, I can’t make a lonely dog feel better by saying:
‘Don’t worry, I’m only a video call away.’
They don’t want a video call.
They want you.
They want the door to open.
They want their lead.
They want their dinner.
They want fresh water.
They want their walk.
And sometimes they just want someone to sit there with them.
The Hidden Part of the Job
This is something I’m learning as I build my pet-sitting business.
There is the part of the job everyone imagines:
Walking dogs.
Feeding pets.
Giving cuddles.
Playing with cats.
Making sure everyone is safe and happy.
And then there is the part nobody puts on the cute pet-sitting graphic:
Driving.
Lots and lots of driving.
Sometimes it’s lovely.
Sometimes it's completely uneventful.
Sometimes you barely notice the journey.
And sometimes you’re halfway through a motorway, approaching a roundabout, surrounded by cars, wondering how on earth a short pet visit turned into an afternoon expedition.
But this is also why distance matters when you’re running a mobile service.
Travel time matters.
Fuel matters.
Traffic matters.
Parking matters.
The distance between appointments matters.
They’re all part of the working day, even though none of them happen inside the client’s home.
And I’m learning to pay more attention to that as I grow my business.
Until Someone Invents Teleportation…
So, if anyone reading this happens to be working on the next great technological breakthrough, I have a suggestion.
Forget another video conferencing platform.
Forget another virtual assistant.
Forget another app that tells me something I didn’t ask to know.
Please invent teleportation for pet sitters.
I would like to press a button and instantly appear outside my client’s house.
No traffic.
No motorway.
No roundabouts.
No parking.
No people driving like they’re auditioning for Fast & Furious.
Just me, my keys, my pet-sitting bag and one very happy dog.
Until then, I’ll continue doing things the old-fashioned way.
I’ll get in my car.
I’ll indicate.
I’ll say thank you.
I’ll drive carefully.
I’ll hold my breath at particularly terrifying roundabouts.
I’ll refill the water.
I’ll serve the dinner.
I’ll open the door.
I’ll pick up the poo.
I’ll take the dog for a walk.
I’ll give the cuddles.
And I’ll remind myself that, unfortunately, virtual pet sitting isn’t a thing…yet.
Because dogs haven’t mastered Zoom.
And until they do, I’ll see you on the road.
Just please don’t forget to indicate.
